


Merry Christmas, Sammy

by catiemo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catiemo/pseuds/catiemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to find the perfect gift for Sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Sammy

            Christmas. Dean HATED Christmas. As far as he was concerned, it was all some big excuse for spoiled brats to ask for ridiculous gifts, but when it was Sammy asking, there was no way he could deny him anything.

            Unfortunately, he didn’t always have the means to give Sam what he wanted. He didn’t feel so terrible this year, though. Sam had long ago stopped believing in Santa and he knew hunting wasn’t exactly lucrative. Still, he wanted to get him something, anything to show his little brother how much he cared for him.

            “What do you want for Christmas this year?” he asked as they were sitting in another crappy motel room after another routine hunt.

            “Why do you even ask? You know I don’t need anything.”

            “Okay, but I didn’t ask what you need, I asked what you want. There’s a difference.”

            “What I want can’t be bought in a store or wrapped in fancy paper.”

            “Well if you’re going to be a girl about it, I might not get you anything.”

            “Fine, but you should know I already got you your gift.”

            “Now you’re trying to guilt trip me into getting you something. It’s not going to work.”

            “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. Actually, if you like my gift, that will be enough for me.”

            “Okay, now I’m kind of afraid to find out what this freaking thing is.”

            “You don’t need to be afraid,” Sam laughed, “but you do have to wait.”

            “Awww, come on, Sammy. It’s practically Christmas,”

            “Christmas is in two weeks, I think you can wait.”

 

            Dean did wait, and he still agonized over what to get Sam. He tried looking at his computer history but there was nothing in there other than research from their hunt and a few porn sites (startlingly boring porn, at that, Dean thought).

            And so Dean found himself at a Wal Mart on Christmas Eve under the pretense of grabbing dinner. He walked through the aisles and he saw more than a few things Sam would have appreciated, but nothing felt quite big enough. He needed to get Sam something that reminded him that he was loved.

            He sighed as he wandered through the toy section, remembering all those letters to Santa asking for things like a squirt gun or a new coat, or some kind of stuffed animal. He thought about Sam’s last letter and the tears fell from his face.

            “Dear Santa, I just want Dean to be happy and Dad to be with us, but I know that’s not within your power, so please give any gifts you might give me to someone who needs them more. Dad wouldn’t let me keep much anyway.”

            Years later and it still broke his heart to think about it. He shook his head and wiped his eyes, glad no one had seen him.

            When he found himself in the book section, he began to wonder why he hadn’t gone there first. There were all kinds of things here Sam would like: mystery novels and fantasy epics and how-to guides for things Dean hadn’t gotten around to teaching him. Any of these would have done just fine, but then Dean’s eyes settled on what was likely the most gorgeous book he had ever seen (not that he’d seen many). It was a simple, brown, leather-bound journal with an elastic band to keep it closed and a white silk ribbon to mark your place. It was perfect.

            He bought the book and a gift bag along with a roasted chicken and macaroni salad for dinner. He slid the journal into the gift bag just before he returned to the motel room.

            “Hey, whatdya get?” Sam asked, closing his computer.

            “Chicken. I mean you gotta have a bird for Christmas, right?”

            “Sure,” Sam agreed. They ate their food and Sam was just about to open his computer back up when Dean stopped him.

            “I want to give you your gift now,”

            “Dean, I told you I didn’t want anything. Besides, Christmas is tomorrow.”

            “Hey, I want you to open it now, so you’re opening it now.”

            Sam sighed, but agreed. When Dean handed him the bag, he smiled up at his brother a bit awkwardly. He carefully removed the book from the bag, ran his finger along the cover and then slid the elastic off and flicked through the pages. “It’s beautiful, Dean. Thank you.”

            “Don’t mention it,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I don’t want you using this for hunting stuff, okay? Strictly personal.”

            “Okay,” Sam said, pulling a pen from his pocket, “let me just write my first entry.”

            Sam scribbled a few words and then painstakingly sketched something Dean could only guess at. He turned the book around so Dean could read the words. They were a little messy, but still clear: “Dean, my gift to you is me, if you want.” and there was some rather poorly drawn mistletoe taking up the lower half of the page.

            Dean took the book and held it above Sam’s head before leaning up and giving him a light kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Sammy,” he said, “I love it.”


End file.
